[log] Fresh Poison Each Week [closed]

[rubikscomplex]

Characters: House, Wilson, Hannibal, Will, Ecks
Location: Building 317
Date: Morning 356
Summary: Post-event recovery
Warnings: Hannibal-related warnings, plus event-related: fingernail horror, toothloss, cannibalism, vomiting, forced feeding, PTSD, mental instability, hallucinations, are possible to come up.

[Judging from the outside, this was definitely a house, but going inside, it seems to have been converted into something like an infirmary. There are a lot of metal tables neatly arranged in the living room and kitchen, and the bedroom has a mattress lightly-stained with blood: it seems like someone at least tried to clean the thing up as best they could, and even flipped it over so the cleaner side is on top. The toilet and shower still work: the shower even has hot water. Makeshift shelves have been attached to one of the walls.]

Comments

[rubikscomplex]

OTA
[House isn't feeling exceptionally sociable. That's his usual M.O., but recent events have left him more twitchy than usual about it, and he's settled himself into a corner where he's reorganizing his pack. It's one of the neurotic ticks he's picked up in Norfinbury, the need to have everything in his pack perfectly cataloged, grouped, positioned.

He's tried contacting Miller and got the bounce-back message, so that's a dead-end for now. They need to get through that bunker. They need to do it. When anyone approaches him, he'll be short with them.]

What?

Closed to Will
I need to talk to you.

[House's voice is low, wherever he approaches Will, and he directs the man to get up and follow him to the bathroom where they can have what minimal privacy this house and a group this size allows.]

[ex_this_ismydesign36]

[ That sounded ominous. The tone, more so than the words. Figuring that they had all had an opportunity to get clean, thus the bathroom could be tied up for a bit without someone banging on the door and demanding shower time, Will got awkwardly to his feet.

He didn't say anything, just focused his gaze on House and nodded. Following into step behind the older doctor, once they were in the bathroom -bless the warm steam- he used his elbow to close the door. ]

I get the impression we're not here to exchange nail tips.

[ Weak humor. ]

[rubikscomplex]

I cashed in my meal ticket. [House is leaning against the sink, arms wrapped around himself, watching Will. He's unnaturally still.] I was trying to pull Lecter out of the delusion.

[There's more to it than that, but House will let that sink in first.]

[ex_this_ismydesign36]

[ Blink.

One place the Ravenstag couldn't fit itself was in this bathroom. Hobbs was in the tub, currently grinning like a madman, and outside the door Will heard the slamming of antlers against the wood. He locked his eyes on House, trying to ignore Hobbs who was practically laughing as he whispered see see. ]

House. [ Just his friend's name, but it was loaded with so much unsaid.

Why?
Who?
Oh, my friend...

Reaching up to pass his hands over his eyes, he was able to block out Hobbs but the battering the door grew more insistent. ]

He agreed?

[rubikscomplex]

Mutual friend. [House's fingers dig into his outer-most layer, clinging. His tone lightens with mild laughter, but it's more just the edge of hysterical than amused.] It's Miller. It's Robert Miller. Hah...

[He can tell Will is in a bad way, probably doesn't need this on top of things, but House is, admittedly, a selfish man. And there's no one else he can tell.]

[ex_this_ismydesign36]

[ One nice thing about functioning while broken so much of the time, was the practice. Given the appropriate focus, Will could pull himself together even when his hallucinations were getting tangled up in the shower curtain.

Blinking, he took in House's tone and his heart broke for his friend. He knew only too well the price that a soul could pay, to make such a request and have that request promised. ]

It terrifies you now. That you asked. [ These were softly spoken, non-judgemental statements, rather than questions. ]

[rubikscomplex]

If Miller dies and gets put on a plate... I'm a part of that now. [Even if Hannibal would have done it anyway.] And I don't... know if I... [House scowls.] If anyone deserved it. But. [But that's still murder. It's still dipping his hand into the darkness, and House has always been fine looking in, but now? Now it's on him.

The prospect of it burrowing beneath his skin, of Hannibal or the Joker using that, of losing control of his own will again or his mind. Those are terrifying things for a man who's clung hard to his sanity in an insane place.]

[onlytwothings]

[ Wilson's not feeling overly social either. It's not that there's too many people here; well, that's part of it, but the other part is that Wilson has this driving need to just be by himself. It's safer that way too, if he listens to the part of his brain that's sending out paranoia-tinged messages.

But House is there, and he's worried about his fried, paranoia and isolationist tendencies notwithstanding. ]

Nothing. Just seeing how you're doing. And I know the answer is most likely "not good".

[rubikscomplex]

Psh! What's another mindscrew? We've got a hot shower here. Suck it, Miller!

[He's not okay. House hasn't been okay for a very long time, and he's even less okay after that little ordeal than he has been in a while. The doctor is more willing to tell his friend how it really is, but there are the standard hoops to jump through first.]

And you got to play knight in slightly molding armor. You get anyone else out of there?

[onlytwothings]

Well, at least you haven't lost your bite.

[ Or his sass and sarcasm. House without sarcasm is an impossible picture. ]

Only slightly molding. The distinction is important. [ He smiles dryly. ] Magenta and I got Enoch out.

[rubikscomplex]

I pulled Lecter and the Joker out of it. [Two psychopaths. Only one of them known as such. House doesn't know what that says about him, particularly, but it's probably nothing good.] Ran into Enoch when he was looking for Beckett.

So, has Maggie May tried hitting on you overtly, yet? [He's not annoyed that you've picked out particularly annoying new friends. You can't prove anything.]

[onlytwothings]

The Joker? Really? [ Not that Wilson would advocate for leaving anyone behind, but people seem to not have very positive things to say about him.

House's next question gets a chuckle out of him. ]

Not that I've noticed, but he was just a little preoccupied the last time I saw him.

[ House, please. What kind of question is that? ]

[rubikscomplex]

[It's the question of a jealous friend. He knows Magenta would snatch Wilson away in a heartbeat if he could. Probably the same for Rhys. He's just here to protect you, Wilson. To vet your Snowhell friends.]

Nobody else was gonna get him out. [Said with a shrug and a sniff.]

And ten bucks says Fuchsia Boy'll ask you to come travel with him before Day 400.

[ecks]

[Ecks has been quiet and thoughtful this morning, stalking from one room to the next, watching each of the house's inhabitants in silence. She looks in on Doctor House twice without commenting before she comes to him in the corner with her own two bags, setting each down carefully a short distance away, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. His question gets a bland reply.]

I am also going to organize my things, Doctor House.

[She just happens to want to do it right here. Pure coincidence. She sits down and unzips her backpack, moving right into the task without further comment.]

[rubikscomplex]

[House gives her a side-ways look.]

You obviously want something. What is it?

[ecks]

[Does he think this is like when she stole the doll from him? She gives him a long look he probably knows her well enough to translate as hurt.]

I do not want your things, Doctor House.

[rubikscomplex]

[He's not thinking that, particularly, but now that she's brought it up.]

You want something from me. What is it? Stop pussyfooting. It's annoying.

[ecks]

I want to sit here and be with you. You and the others are behaving irregularly and I do not like it.

[Look, she's already digging things out of her pack. This is how you social, right?]

OTA - cw: Fingernail horror, forced feeding, mental instability, hallucinations

[ex_this_ismydesign36]

[ They were out. They were all out and now back in the environment that should feel normal. Only Will was having a very hard time getting a clear delineation between the two.

He didn't advertise the fact, years of dealing with his feral mind having taught him how to hide it when his subconscious and conscious minds got into a tussle. He didn't talk about the vision of Abigail, who would walk into his field of vision, staying just off to the side, standing covered in blood and holding her hand out towards him.

Inviting.

He didn't advertise the fact that he heard Garrett Jacob Hobbs, as clear as if he were standing right next to his ear, whisper see, see over and over again. Randall Tier, lower jaw missing and upper jaw filled with sabre tooth tiger teeth, stood next to the Ravenstag, stroking his hand across it's thick, feathered neck.

Sometimes Will would look up, trying to escape the visions if only for a couple of breaths, but even up held no comfort. Mischa's killer hung, wine bottle winges flared, but his eyes were no longer peacefully closed. They were open, cloudy like Hobbs and the man kept laughing insanely.

By far the worst of it would come when he closed his eyes. A single slice of Beverly Katz lay just behind his eyelids, one eye blinking.

Intermingled in all of this was House, Wilson Hannibal and Ecks. Will tried to remind himself to focus on them especially when they spoke, but a lot of him was moving on automatic pilot. He followed where he was lead, he ate what was put in front of him, he waited his turn for the shower.

Even unwrapping his hands did little to help him ground back to reality. They were definitely healing, but some nails were still split and ripped, the fingers black and blue from the trauma. Will took his allotted time in the shower, the fall of the water skewing in his mind to the wet sound of Verger, cutting off his face and feeding it to the dogs. The water turned to blood, a hallucination Will had experienced often enough that he knew to just wait it out.

Only this time it never let up. He washed himself, hair included and tried not to gag on the phantom scent of blood, and mold and water. He tasted the rancid tissue paper in his mouth and had to spit. A bit of dish soap was squirted on the spot to clean it.

Eventually he surfaced, got mostly dried -no easy feat with his hands unbandaged but he managed it- and dressed. He could have asked Hannibal for assistance, but Will was feeling that fierce, independent Icansurviveonmyown streak.

Passing off the shower to the next member of their traumatized group, Will retreated to what he hoped was an out of the way corner of the living room. Sitting down on the floor, his damaged hands resting lightly over his knees, he pressed his face against his thighs.

He probably didn't make a particularly inviting figure, though he was a stationary target for the time being. ]

[onlytwothings]

[ Wilson had seen traumatized people before, and it looked to him that Will definitely counted as a traumatized individual. Or at least, someone who had seen too much and been put through too much.

And on some level, the other man had no idea how to approach him, or if he even wanted anyone to approach. So, he kept his pace slow and he focused on any cues Will might give off, such as warning him away or telling him to back off. ]

Hey.

[ "How are you doing?" seemed like such a stupid and insensitive question, so Wilson refrained from asking it. There were other ways to get around to that topic, although Wilson guessed that the answer was nothing positive. ]

Mind if I sit down?

[ Obviously now was a strange time to try to get to know someone, but he still didn't know Will very well, and he hoped to change that, at least a little. ]

[ex_this_ismydesign36]

[ Lost in his own world, quite literally, it took Will a moment to be able to focus enough to identify that Wilson was, in fact, right in front of him. He looked up at the man, perhaps with a bit more intensity than one might feel was required, but it helped Will block out the hallucinations floating at the edge of his vision. ]

Hello.

[ His voice was soft, and while not a particularly enthusiastic type of greeting, it didn't suggest that he wished Wilson to lean either. Glancing to both sides, Will scooted a little to the right, maybe a larger space against the wall for Wilson to occupy.

It was an unspoken invitation. Probably would be good if he'd use his words, especially to House's best friend, but Will would work up to that. ]

[onlytwothings]

[ Honestly, Wilson isn't sure what made him approach Will, or what he planned to say now that he has, but he's at least decent at figuring things out as he goes. ]

How are you holding up? I- don't have a lot to offer, but do you need anything?

[ It seems small, and even insignificant, but Wilson needs to do something besides just sit around. ]

[ex_this_ismydesign36]

[ Will gave his head a shake, and usually he'd leave it at that.

But this wasn't a usual situation. This man was important to House, which meant that being his usual rude, jackass self was not an option. Additionally, Will had already picked up on the fact that Wilson was a chronic fixer.

It was his way of coping with the inconceivable, even in the often heartbreaking results of his day to day job. A deflection outward of internal conflict, and probably as vital to Wilson's mental health in this place as Will's own ability to accept the hallucinations of his unstable mind.

Wilson was also a part of House, which meant that Will's Guardian Complex was peeking it's silly head up. Swallowing, Will stuck a mental shoe up his own anti-social ass and dug around for some words.

His voice was calm, quiet and obviously used to being soft spoken. ]

I'm doing as well can be expected. Probably better than a lot of people, my work back home means I'm used to processing some of the worst people can do to one another.

[ Everything he said was true, just not the whole picture. ]

You were the one who got House out?

[onlytwothings]

[ And clearly Will meant something to House, which made the other man important in Wilson's book. But where Will had Wilson basically figured out in terms of his need to fix things, he still viewed Will as something of an enigma. And enigmas were rarely solved, at least not by the average person. ]

And that's both bad and good, isn't it? Just because you can handle seeing the worst things people are capable of doesn't mean it doesn't impact you on some level.

[ Unless, of course, Will is one of those types of people who aren't affected at all by the most horrific things. Wilson wouldn't consider that an asset, however; and he wouldn't go as far as to attribute that to Will without cause. ]

For what it's worth, if you do find yourself needing anything, I'm not hard to reach.

[ He's doing his fixer thing again, but it's an ingrained response by now. The question about House takes him a little bit by surprise, but he collects himself quickly enough. ]

He took some convincing, and required proof before he'd even consider doing anything, but he got out eventually.

[ecks]

[Ecks does not like how the men who were taken away are acting now that they are back. She stalks from place to place in the little building, a silent figure in doorways as she stops to observe. To stare, quite frankly, as she watches for some sign of...something. Wilson gets only passing glances; she is fairly certain of him still. The others...the others make her uneasy by the change she sees in them.

If someone looks back, perhaps makes eye contact or comments or seems to notice her presence at all...or if they go too long in silence and she can't stand it anymore...she does finally speak.]

What happened there?